


Saint Denis Fur Company

by thepapercrow



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27243169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepapercrow/pseuds/thepapercrow
Summary: Arthur is shocked to hear that the timid photographer Albert Mason wants to work a job with him. And especially baffled at the payment- thousands of dollars’ worth of fine clothing.
Relationships: Albert Mason & Arthur Morgan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	Saint Denis Fur Company

Arthur’s day started with angry yelling. Micah was throwing a childish fit about camp chores for the second time this week, enraged that Dutch didn’t force Lenny to do them. ‘The youngest needs to know his place,’ apparently. After sparing Micah a smirk and an insult, Arthur fled camp.

Somehow, one errand turned into two. And a third when he collected a bounty poster from the Saint Denis police station. Arthur finally settled down with a whisky in the hotel lobby, tired from his day running back and forth though the cesspit of a town. Arthur was surprised away from his drink when he saw the photographer Albert Mason stumbling towards him, the man accidently bumping into a chair on his path to him.

“Mr. Mason, good to see you- didn’t know you ever left the woods.”

“Ah, I try not to but alas, not all of us can catch out own food. The rest of us have to settle with buying it.”

“That’s too bad. Fresh meat is much better than whatever that is.” He gestured to some grotesque display on their neighbor’s plate. Albert just nodded along easily before squinting at Arthur calculatingly.

“How big are you then Mr. Morgan?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your height and other general dimensions.”

After an uncomfortable pause Arthur turned around slowly, “well there you go then, my ‘general dimensions.” He took another sip of his whisky and leaned up against the bar again.

“Ah forgive me, that must have been a weird question. I just ask because I may be about to come into possession of a large amount of men’s clothing, and you appear to be just the right size. From this perspective at least. I’ve got measuring tape though, if you don’t mind me checking. Sadly I’m a bit too small.”

“Um, well I’m not sure I’m in need of clothing right now. But thanks for the offer.” The photographer was acting even odder than usual, his questions accompanied by general shiftiness.

“It is very nice clothing, I assure you. Maybe we should talk somewhere a bit more discreet? No offense intended, but your shirt is a few inches short on the arm. Maybe the measurement could help prevent that from happening again regardless.” Arthur didn’t mention he’d stripped this shirt off someone he’d shot the week before after his own shirt got covered in horse shit. Mr. Mason didn’t need to know those details. But he followed him up to the hotel room anyway, he was a bit curious to why Albert was so on edge. After a short struggle with the tape measure they had some rough numbers.

“Ah perfect! I thought it might be the case when I saw you in there- you are very well proportioned, just the right figure for showing off clothing.”

“Um… thanks, I guess. Where is all the clothes though.” Sure enough, the hotel room was barren other than the pile of camera equipment and a little travel bag.

“Well here’s the thing. Let’s sit down and talk about all that.” That wasn’t what Arthur meant to do today, discuss clothing in a Saint Denis hotel room, but he took a seat all the same, waiting for the nervous photographer to explain himself.

“Now I don’t want to make any accusations here, I really don’t care what you get up to. But would I be correct in assuming that you may have been part of some nefarious business in your life, at some point?” Arthur was suddenly alert, perhaps he’d seen a poster somewhere. “I mean, you’re clearly a good man, I just couldn’t help but notice you carry a lot of weapons, and that sometimes correlates with some limited form of flexibility in…”

Arthur cut him off, “what are you askin’ here Mr. Mason? Are you suggestin’ I incriminate myself in some way to you?”

“What? Of course not! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… well thought you might want to help me with a little job today. I swear It will be real easy.”

-

They were currently crouched behind San Denis Fur Company with burlap sacks in hand. The last employee was loitering around, seemingly fascinated with the windowsill. He was staggering back and forth a little, clearly drunk on something.

“Are you sure about this? I mean, I’m all for thievin’ but this seems a bit wild for someone like you,” Arthur asked.

“Like me? What does that mean?” Albert asked, looking very out of place.

“Well for one, you ain’t a criminal.”

“Well you’re the one ending up with all the goods, I’m just helping facilitate the transfer of possessions.”

“Right. What is he even doin’?” Arthur asked, confused by the man fumbling around.

“Oh no, he’s probably looking for the spare key…” Albert revealed the little key from his pocket. “Saw him leave it there when he went in this morning, that’s what triggered the whole idea of mine. But now, do think maybe he won’t-”

“Fuck it!” the well-dressed man grunted finally, “every time it fucking falls.” He fell to his knees on the pavement and started pawing through the planter. After what seemed like hours Arthur finally just rose to his feet and darted over to the man, getting the first burlap sack over his head before he even had time to squeak. Arthur heard a gasp from behind him.

“What are you doing?” Albert hurried out from their hiding place in the most suspicious way imaginable. All but whipping his head back and forth as he went.

“Shh, I ain’t hurt him, just… he was stallin’ up the plan. I’ll just tuck him in a closet somewhere and he’ll be fine.” Arthur whispered back, packing part of the loose bag back into the man’s mouth to silence him. Luckily, he was light and as soon as they entered the garish store Arthur was easily able to carry him to a back room for storage. He joined back up with Albert in the main room and finally took in the massive number of furry garments. There lantern light was dim, but even in the low light the sheer amount of product was apparent.

“Look at all this!” Albert exclaimed angrily, pointing to all the furred collars and hems. “Unbelievable.”

“You know Mr. Mason, I’m wearing fur right now- as we speak. Seems a natural sort of thing.” Arthur rolled his glove back to reveal the lining of grey rabbit fur. “How else are folks supposed to keep warm in the winter?” Albert hardly spared a glance at the offered glove, frantically running between the displays yanking things down.

“I don’t take issue with people wearing fur or leather, I take issue with the hunting practices of this establishment. I’ve been following their movements and they’ve been killing off all the rarest foxes and mountain cats- even the rare white cougars from out west!” Arthur thought back to the hell cat he’d shot dead in a cave out west while trying to collect a debt. Best not mention that now.

“They’ve been throwing poison in the waterways to kill all the alligators and been wasting half the product after they kill it. I found rotting corpses out in the swamps the other day with traces of this company all over them. No Mr. Morgan, you may think I’m crazy and dramatic for this but that’s fine- I’m trying to do something good.”

Arthur was caught off guard by the passion in the man’s voice, and the anger. He recalled a similar anger in Charles after they had found the dead bison left out to rot months before.

“I get it, I really do- and I’m here to help. I’m just a bit confused. Why would a business waste potential product like that? Surely they’d pick over everything like the vultures they are?” It’s what Arthur would do, as a fellow vulture.

“They only use the softest part of the leather, the prime pieces. I’ve seen a fox killed for the tail. It should be criminal. And now they’re about to have a grand opening here, right here in the most populated city in hundreds of miles. If they take off here, all is lost. You haven’t seen the huge piles of skulls I take it?” He gestured around the ornate room. It really was an impressive spread, wooden forms revealing all sorts of well-made clothing.

“So you want me to have it all?”

“Well,” Albert looked embarrassed. “Originally I thought I thought to burn it all in the middle of town. But that would be an even bigger waste. And then I saw you, and you seemed about the same size as those display forms all the clothing is on. Besides, your…” he trailed off, eyes falling to the ground. To Arthur’s boots.

“They ain’t that bad,” Arthur defended weakly.

“I’m just saying you look like you could use some new clothing. And well, I could never wear any of this.” Arthur paced forward to the closest display; a fitted suit garnished with a bright red tail of some sort tied around the neck. He grabbed the offending body part and looped in around his own neck. He could feel the fur all over his chin, almost obstructing his mouth.

“What you think?” he asked. Albert just looked at him consideringly for a few moments.

“Um, well. Perhaps you can gift it to some special lady.” Arthur snorted and wandered over to a floor length mirror- the thing was rather confusing as a scarf. Furry as it was, the placement didn’t even keep him warm. Albert just jumped back into his frenzy. “But look, this would definitely fit your look, much more subtle!” The vest was comfortable looking and sturdy, only subtle hints of fur lining the edges.

“Yeah, this is fine. Not so over the top- I’m a simple sort of man,” Arthur said, happy to find something salvageable in this hoard.

“Well there’s no reason not to take the rest of the stuff here.” Albert gestured to the walls of hangers holding all manner of fur-free clothing, from cotton button down dress shirts to simple but well-made work shirts. “You see, it was my intention to not just make a statement but to leave this establishment crippled.”

“Hmm, yeah okay. Help me fill the bags then.” They made a loop, pulling every shirt, coat and pair of boats off the displays. They were forced to pillage laundry bags from the backroom.

“What about all this?” Arthur asked Albert, gesturing to the large pile of fur and leather on the worktable, not yet fashioned into the properly sized garments for customers.

“Take it all. Give it out- I trust you would make better use of it that me. But maybe don’t wear any of this around Saint Dennis… I don’t want you to come into any sort of trouble at my expense.”

They finished packing all the goods into their bags before making for the door, the store completely trashed behind them.

“And what’s stopping them from just going out there and doing the same thing all over again?” Arthur almost wished he didn’t ask at the disappointed look on Alberts face.

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping this would completely push them out of business but… who really knows. I just… I guess it doesn’t matter what I think, I just thought there needed to be some justice here, some punishment for what they did.”

“I understand. If I see anyone doin’ that sort of poachin’ I’ll… take care of it.” Albert just nodded in a daze.

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan, what would I do without you?”

He looked around the dark city streets. “Get eaten by a stray cat or something probably. Thanks for the clothes, don’t think I’ll ever need more at this rate.” And with that Arthur headed off into the night and loaded the sacks of garments onto Bella. He mounted and craned his neck to watch as Albert tried to walk away from the raided store nonchalantly. With a final nod he turned and headed back to Shady Belle.

-

At first glance, Charles thought the figure approaching was a much bigger man. But as he neared, he saw it was just Arthur, but there were large bags hanging off every corner of his horse’s saddle. He was riding slowly and put a hand up in greeting.

“Charles.”

“Arthur. What do you have there?”

“Went shopping for some clothes.” What?

“Huh… want some help bringing it in then?”

“Sure, that’d be a big help.”

Together they were able to lug the countless sacks upstairs. The bundles took up most of the floor.

“You’re being serious? This is all clothing?”

“Yep, have a look if you want- it’s all in the same size but there may be some scarves or somethin’ if you want. And some of the boots seem a little big for me.” Charles broke open the first bundle and a waterfall of furry cloth poured out onto the floor. He picked up a tail of some sort.

“Interesting fashion sense Arthur. You really bought all this?”

“Not exactly, it was more of a gift. Or maybe a favor, I’m still not so sure. Maybe you want this one?” Arthur deposited one of the bundles into his arms. “Raw materials, fur, leather, that sorta thing.”

“Thanks…”

“Also, you see any hunters for the Saint Denis Fur Company ‘round here, perhaps you should shoot ‘em.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open Arthur. Night.” Charles made his escape from the fur explosion with his bag. When he returned from guard duty an hour later, he saw the upstairs light still on, a silhouette folding clothing. Odd.

**Author's Note:**

> The only reason I wrote this was to justify how my Arthur had about $10,000 worth of clothing as the gang suffered to get by. For some unknown reason I bought every garment in the game in every color as the camp fell into disarray. Sorry everybody, you can’t go to Tahiti because of my fashion choices.


End file.
